Marigold Mysteries: Part One, Ashes To Ashes

Chapter 5: Confrontation

It was Juniper who first brought it up that if we were going to the center of town, we'd probably have to get me a more discrete outfit than a slightly dirty funeral dress. I'd actually forgotten it in the chaos that occurred today, but it was probably a wise decision. I may not have attracted much attention in the outer district, but the center of town would be another story. I'd been staying at the college there for a couple of weeks now, and even though I wasn't super close with anybody, there'd surely be people who recognize my face. And that's not a good thing, not when I've supposedly been dead for a week.

So, naturally, I duck into the nearest thrift store I can see and start digging through bins. June hops off my shoulder with a promise that she'll be right back, and I flash her a thumbs up from where I'm knee deep in bargain hunting. I've always been pretty thrifty, so it doesn't take me long to find a pair of jeans about my size, a faded band t-shirt, and a red zip-up hoodie in decent condition.

Just as I'm about to head to the checkout counter, clothes in hand, Juniper hops from somewhere onto my shoulder and deposits a pair of glasses on top of the pile. She reassures me they're fake, and I have to acknowledge it's probably a good idea. Even if the lenses are a bit large on my face.

I buy all the items, at a great price mind you, but still feeling guilty using Juniper's money, and put it all on in a dressing room. I come out looking like a depressed emo kid. At least I don't look like I crawled out of an open grave. The dress gets deposited in a convenient dumpster, the location of which is going to be repressed just like most of today once I have sufficient time to process the chaos that's now my life.

I pull the hood over my head as we head into the center of Phantombelle. The crowd begins to thicken as the older, run-down buildings gradually become more and more modern, the shrubbery more trimmed, and the roads less cracked. Marks noting the locations of leylines are frequent, but unnecessary, as I can now feel the hum of magic under my feet, flowing from a stream to, eventually, a raging river. It winds through the air here and there, connecting to those drawing from it, buildings, power lines, people, and just about anything else you can imagine. This town, and these people, are built on magic.

It's just as exhilarating entering the central square again as it was the first time. Here, where the buildings around form a rough circle around an island of concrete, is the most magical place in town. The streams and rivers draw their source from this power spot, what many have called this region's center of magic. There are centers elsewhere of course, but this is the only one I've ever been to. The energy it immediately fills me with is almost enough for me to forget the oppressive crowd. My (former) favorite café is near here somewhere and I bet if I poked my head up from the crowd, I'm sure I'd be able to spot the eclectic collection of buildings and spiraling towers that make up the university campus.

I stick to the edges of the center, eventually finding an unattended bench. Juniper, even less impressed with the crowd than I am, jumps off my shoulder onto the back of the bench as I sit down. I survey the crowd from beneath my hood, trying my best to look like a bored teenager whose parents dragged her here on a shopping trip or something. Juniper whispers from behind me.

"Is this a good spot?"

"As good as we're going to get," I reply, "though I might need some help. The magic here is a bit much for me to handle on my own."

Juniper gives a slight huff. "I guess I'll have to help you out then. Haven't done this in a while."

After a second of her concentrating with her eyes closed I can feel her magical aura reach out towards mine, and I instinctually link them together. Now I screw my eyes shut too. I can feel my magic wanting to draw from her aura, but I resist the urge. I try to envision it less like a battery, and more like an anchor. Now comes the hard part.